


In a galaxy far, far away...

by ohsweetescape



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Darth Maul - Freeform, Darth Vader Fluff, Din Djarin - Freeform, F/M, Kylo Ren - Freeform, Mandalorain, Obi-Wan - Freeform, One Shot, Original Character - Freeform, Short Stories, darth vader smut, one shots, star wars fluff, star wars smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:14:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25439797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsweetescape/pseuds/ohsweetescape
Summary: A series of short stories/one-shots of my favorite Star Wars boys (Anakin/Vader, Obi-Wan, Din Djarin/Mando, Darth Maul, Kylo). These feature my character Ama'le from my fic "His Starlight", though these are more headcanons that aren't connected directly to that story.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker/Original Character(s), Darth Vader/Original Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	In a galaxy far, far away...

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Summary: I wrote this when I was having a hard time getting out of my own head. Ama'le is consumed by stress and Vader isn't having any of that. Fluff.

She hadn't slept in days.  
Due to stress, no doubt. Ama'le had a habit of over thinking - especially when those thoughts revolved around her place in all this. Had she done enough? Would she ever be enough? Questions he already knew the answers to. Unfortunately Vader didn't have as much of a way with words as Anakin. And even Skywalker's silver tongue could only get him so far in the way of comforting a friend - much less a woman he so happened to love. He was a man of action. Let his hands speak the intension of his heart, not his voice. Today he'd try for a mixture of both.

"Come." He called for her like a dog. Rough start. 

She'd gotten used to it though, not entirely fond of this version of him...but accepting. Well, somewhat accepting. "Why?" It wasn't a word of protest. Not exactly. The question came wrapped in what could only be described as a whine. For one so well spoken, so refined and pristine...it never ceased to amaze how effortlessly that grace could slip away to the countenance of a child. It was a wall she'd only let down for a very select few. Anakin knew that side of her all too well...Vader had only recently been introduced. "Come." He repeated with a stern dip to his tone. The Sith felt her eyes on him like daggers digging into the armor that hid a disfigured interior. She'd been lounging (brooding, more like) atop the specious padded windowsill that offered a dismal view of Mustafar's molten shores. Quiet, thoughtful and bothered. He felt it taint their bond from where he sat with his back turned to her. 

Her despair was a looming black cloud that threatened to out-do the smoke of his own rage. This...unnerved him; though not in a way one might expect. Even when her anger was directed at him, Vader found solace in having her by his side. She was a comfort, a flickering candle he turned to for warmth when the bleak winter of his dark reality threatened to swallow him whole, and as such he preferred her nearby whenever duty wasn't pulling him away. Anger, he could combat. But sorrow? That he couldn't stand for. 

She was wallowing in secret. For what, he did not know. He tried a go at ignoring it if only to allow her at least some semblance of privacy...but enough was enough.

Another short beat of silence (all but for the steady breath of his respirator) before she sighed and slunked up from her corner to greet him at his desk. A turn past the massive Imperial structure of a seat and she could see him head-on, mask still set on the collection of datapads in front of him. Ama'le couldn't tell where his eyes were aimed. Curse those dark visors...at least they spared her from that cold piercing glare.

"Something is on your mind." He stated plainly. Was that a question, or an observation? "Tell me." Like an order. 

There was a crinkle to her brow, half confused and half flustered, before she crossed her arms and defiantly darted those bright silver eyes away. "Forgive me if I don't feel inclined to confide in you."

"You mistake my curiosity for concern." Nevermind that he was in fact concerned.

"Curiosity?" She scoffed and he refused to acknowledge her with so much as a brief turn of his head. "You've forced your way into my mind before, do it again if you're so interested in what I'm thinking."

"Sit." Calm as ever. That deep voice cut through her agitated own as he gestured to his knee with a pat of a gloved hand. That earned her attention. 

A moment of pause.

"What?" She glanced down towards his thigh. 

"Must I repeat myself?" Ah, there it was. That short fuse. 

"Vader, I...ha! Are you kidding me? I’m not going to sit on your lap. Im not a child-" 

"This isn't a request." 

"Well it should be!" 

She snapped back and he finally turned his mask to face her. Her posture went stiff, unprepared to be acknowledged though she held her ground with a glare set on that cold, unfeeling viel. "...There's a conflict within you." He pointed out thoughtfully, though it sounded almost like a taunt. "What is it?" 

Another fleeting moment of quiet. Her nostrils flared to a slow intake of breath, shoulders easing out of their tense line to a more relaxed slump. "...I don't want to talk about it." Then softer, less combative. "Please." 

That only made it worse.

"Something happened while I was away."

"Vader-"

"You will tell me. By your own volition or taken by force, that is entirely up to you." 

"Oh stars, fine!" She threw her hands up with an exhausted huff, "I'll sit on your blasted lap if it'll appease you!" 

Normally the outburst would be met by an equally venomous if not worse reply. But she was touching him then, tugging for one of his arms to open like a door. The weighted feeling of her hands, though muted by his armor, was enough to silence whatever else he had in his arsenal of threats. Next, she was climbing over him. With a determined attitude that screamed displeasure did she toss one leg after the other over his thighs and settle atop his lap, torso nestled into his chest. Vader's heart unexpectedly dropped. So small in comparison to his frame, so deceptively fragile.

Now it was his turn to go rigid. She leaned against his front with the side of her body, head coming to the bend of his shoulder, face turned away and arms crossed over her chest. “Happy?” The question was short and bitter, almost shy though most definitely sour. He didn’t reply. One hand hovered over her hip while the other remained planted atop the large, curved black marble desk. His silence was more unsettling than the deep timbre of a modulated voice. 

Ama’le visibly shrinked, shoulders raising as short nails pricked the skin over her biceps. Maybe he hadn’t expected her to actually do it. Shame on him then, he should’ve known better. She was as stubborn as he was ruthless. At the very least, she managed to shut him up...and he was (surprisingly) comfortable…

Warmth radiated off his hulking frame despite the initial chill of armored plates. It beckoned her to melt against that broad chest, to do as she would’ve done all those years ago when his touch was gentler and his eyes were kinder. Now Ama’le refused her body that comfort, afraid of what that sort of submission would do to an already over burdened heart. 

It did feel right though, didn’t it? Two halves brought together as a single whole. Would it be a sin to say she missed his touch? No...no, she missed Anakin’s touch. Vader was different. She’d seen enough of him to understand as much. 

“You’re exhausted.” His voice startled her. She turned her head to look at him before that hovering hand finally made contact with her hip...and the Jedi’s jaw clenched. He noticed her flinch.

"...Does it repulse you so much?” The question was in reference to his hold. He didn't sound insulted. No, he almost sounded...hurt. She withheld an immediate answer, eyes going soft in an elegant face before they fell away from his mask to where his other hand still rested atop the desk. No. It didn’t upset her at all. Quite the opposite, actually...and that was frightening.

Carefully, slowly, she reached for that other hand and his eyes followed her movements from behind a secretive visor. Ama’le felt it then - a brief flash of vulnerability that shined like sunlight through a needle-sized hole. It was coming from his end of their bond...and her heart fluttered at the feeling, grasping his hand in both of hers before tugging to direct its placement at her arm. He followed willingly, feather light over her as she released him and nestled a cheek against his shoulder. Stars, his chest felt tight. 

“...Hold me for a while.” She whispered before snaking her arm around his waist. 

There was a crack to his wall. With everything in him, he wanted to kiss her. Not out of passion, no, though there was no denying his desire...but out of love. If life were kinder then he would've been able to tuck his chin and brush a kiss into the start of her hair. But Vader couldn’t do that...not then and possibly not ever. He could hold her though. 

And hold her he did. 

Strong artificial arms clung to a smaller frame in an over-tight hold she didn't seem to mind. The once tightly wound arch of her spine relaxed to a sleepy slump as silver eyes gradually fluttered shut. How much time had passed? Seconds, minutes, hours? It didn't matter. She fell asleep there tucked in his embrace, whimpering here and then when caught in a dream. He'd soothe those gentle mewls with a pet of his hand through her hair and find satisfaction in the way she nuzzled against his shoulder. For a time, Vader felt no pain. For a time, there was only bliss. For a time, he was happy.


End file.
